


Training - Aftermath

by Ayame_no_kimi



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, but we knew that already, hux is being an arsehole, mentions of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7191647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayame_no_kimi/pseuds/Ayame_no_kimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren returns from training with Snoke battered, and not just physically. Hux tries being an arsehole about it and doesn't entirely succeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training - Aftermath

Hux can sense the man fidgeting from halfway across the room.

He is young, one of the new lieutenants, and not important enough that Hux has bothered to learn his name yet.

Just for a moment Hux considers ignoring the lieutenant’s nervous approach until he has driven him into a proper meltdown. Then he relents and motions the man with a gloved hand to come closer, eyes still on his data monitor.

“What is it?”

“I am sorry to disturb, Sir, but the prisoner we caught – they caught – we caught – a few days ago… they told me to inform you, to report to you that he doesn’t talk. They are a bit lost at what to do.”

And who better to bother with this than the general himself?

“How long has it been?”

“Four days, Sir.”

“Hasn’t Kylo Ren returned from his super-secret training with the Supreme Commander today? Tell him to take care of it.”

The fidgeting becomes worse. “We did that, Sir. Well, we asked him to. He refuses to come out of his room.”

For the first time Hux looks up from the screen in front of him. He frowns at the man. “What do you mean he refuses to come out of his room? What is he, twelve?”

“I don’t know, Sir. I mean, I don’t think so. I mean, he told us he needed rest and that we should try again without him.”

“That’s ridiculous. What is he here for if not to work his Force-mojo when we need it? We certainly don’t keep him around for the pleasant company.”

“I am sorry, Sir, I don’t know what to…”

Hux waves his hand. Usually he would tell the lieutenant to work things out on his own, but they need the prisoner to talk, and soon. No Resistance this time. Chiss. They’re always a much harder nut to crack. “I’ll speak to Ren.”

And that is how he ends up on the outside of Kylo Ren’s door. Knocking once doesn’t evoke any reaction. Knocking twice doesn’t either. Somebody must be in a spiffing mood.

He knocks a third time, or rather, pounds his fist against the door, and calls Ren’s name.

“Go away,” comes the muffled response.

Hux knows the metallic tone. It is not just the door that distorts Ren’s voice. He is wearing his mask inside his room, which is usually a bad sign.

“Training didn’t go well?” he asks.

“Training went just fine. Now go away.”

“We’ve got a situation here, Ren. We need your Jedi skills.”

“I’m not a Jedi.”

“That’s not the point and you know it. Just come out and do your job. That’s what you’re here for, after all.”

“No, it’s not. I’m here to find Skywalker. Find me someone who knows about Skywalker and I’ll come out.”

“Who can say? Maybe he does know something about Skywalker.”

“Nice try. Go and interrogate your own prisoner. One look at your face and he’ll probably spill anyway.”

“Ha fucking ha. What are you, nine? If you don’t open this door stat I’ll blast it open.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

He waits for a few minutes. Finally, the sound of steps. A bolt being drawn back with a screech. Hux presses the button next to the door frame and the door opens. Ren is in full attire. Black robes, black mask, black hood. The lights in the room behind him are so dim that it is almost impossible to make out his shape.

“Why do you have an actual bolt on your door? It’s an electronic system anyway.”

“I don’t trust it. What do you want?”

“What do you mean what do I want? You know what I want. Come on, now, you can go back to sulking later.”

“I’m not sulking, Hux, and I’m not coming. I can’t, I can’t use the Force right now. Just do it yourself.”

Hux studies the black figure in front of him. Ren really is doing his best not to give anything away, but there is a hunch around his shoulders and a drag in his voice. It sounds like more than pure exhaustion.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Nothing. I trained. It was hard. I need some rest. Just come back tomorrow or another day.”

“We need the information now.”

“Go get it yourself then.”

They could go on like this. Banter for another hour or so until they are both completely fed up and don’t remember what they were quarrelling about in the first place. A small, unprofessional part of him wants to do exactly that and be it just to rile Ren up a bit. Eventually, though, reason wins.

“Fine. Go back to your batcave. Sit in the darkness and brood away. The stars know it hasn’t made a better person out of anyone yet, but…”

The door closes before he can end his sentence.

_One day I am going to feed him to a Sarlacc._

Ren is right with one thing, though. Hux does have his way with prisoners. It is less the real pain he causes them and more the promise of pain he uses to make them give in. Of course he can make the Chiss talk. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t annoy the hell out of him. He is the general. He has better things to do than torture prisoners and the fact that he is basically forced to do Ren’s dirty work doesn’t make it any better.

It is way past day-time shift when Hux finally withdraws to his room and starts a quick search on nearby Sarlacc pits before he goes to sleep.

Sarlaccs lead to Tatooine, which leads to Naboo, which leads to a lengthy article on the ridiculously complicated and redundant system of government, which leads to the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. Which gets him so caught up that he doesn’t hear the knocks on his door. That is, until a voice, slightly distorted, calls out softly.

“Is this payback for me ignoring you earlier?”

Hux flinches and looks up. “What do you want?”

“I need your help.”

He stands up and opens the door for the sole purpose of giving Ren his best disbelieving look. “Oh how the tables have turned. What makes you think I give a fuck about what you need?”

“Can you stop being an arsehole for one evening and cut me some slack for a change?”

“No.” Then he sees the med kit in Ren’s hands. “Are you injured?”

“It’s nothing serious. But I can’t reach the cuts on my back.”

“Go to medbay.”

Ren stays silent for a while. “I don’t want them to see me,” he eventually says.

“Explain to me again how this has come to be my problem?”

“You wouldn’t tell anyone what you saw because it means you’d have to admit you were being nice to me.”

“True.” Hux purses his lips in thought. The hunch is still there, as is the drag. “Fine. Come in.”

He closes and locks the door behind Ren. Then he turns around and looks at Ren under the much brighter lights of his room. It doesn’t help him to figure out anything more than before, though. Ren tilts his masked head, but he doesn’t say a word.

“Alright,” Hux finally relents. “Unless you want me to treat that helmet of yours, you’ll have to get naked at some point. I promise – general’s honour – not to take advantage of you.”

Ren snorts, but he lifts his hands and takes off the mask and his robes.

Maybe Hux shouldn’t have made that promise.

It should be impossible for a man who has done the things Ren has – torture, murder, mind-control – to have those eyes and yet, here they are. It’s like they have not hardened at all from what they have witnessed, the only softness left in all the cruelty beheld. They look even more exhausted than the rest of him – the greyish colour of his skin, the draw around the corners of his mouth, the heaviness in his breath. There is a shimmer in those eyes that is less a reflection of the lights above their heads and more something coming from inside, something that is desperately trying to break out, only Ren doesn’t let it, because if he did it would break him apart.

Before Hux can get lost in soft lips and sad eyes and black curls spilling around his face like the night itself Ren sheds his shirt and the breath is drawn out of Hux’s lungs so forcefully it hurts.

He is covered in cuts and bruises from shoulders to waist. They have begun to heal already, but most are still fresh enough to paint his skin in crude shades of red, blue, and purple.

“What in all bloody blazes did that training of yours entail?”

“Don’t worry about how it looks. Most of it is superficial. It doesn’t even hurt anymore, I’m just worried it might get infected.”

Ren turns around and sits down on the bed. His back looks worse, probably because he couldn’t reach it himself.

Hux sits down behind Ren, takes the bacta salve out of the med kit and opens it. He begins at Ren’s shoulders, tries to touch him as gently as he can. He expects Ren to flinch at his touch, but either he really doesn’t feel the pain anymore or he has mastered perfect self-control. There is no reaction whatsoever.

“Is that why you didn’t want to come out today?” Hux asks.

Ren shakes his head. The muscles in his neck shift. Hux trails his fingers down the dip between his shoulder blades. There are two long, rigged tears on both sides of it, almost as if someone had ripped a pair of wings out of his back.

“I don’t care about those injuries,” Ren says quietly. His voice has dropped to a whisper, so low Hux wonders for a moment whether he has confused the hum of the air filter for words. “I just… I wish I didn’t have to use the Force anymore. Sometimes I think, having someone inside your mind, having them invade every single corner of it, having all your innermost thoughts and hopes and fears ripped out…”

“Is that what he did?” Hux asks softly. He rubs salve into the two wing cuts. Ren’s skin burns underneath his fingertips.

“It’s like… he tore out every part of me, pulled at them and pushed at them and pounded them into a new shape. And then he tried to compress them back together, make them one again, only that there was nothing of me left, so they wouldn’t stick. And that made him angry. I wouldn’t fit the way I was supposed to. Why can’t I fit, Hux? What is wrong with me?”

Hux doesn’t speak. A dozen vitriolic comments spring to the tip of his tongue, about his ridiculous, girly hair, about his Vader-obsession, about his mask, his temper tantrums, his refusal to use any weapon other than his lightsaber. None of that sounds fun to say out loud anymore.

“You see, the issue with plunging into the darkness is that it becomes so much harder to find your way,” Ren continues. He is shivering now. His skin is cold where it is unbroken and hot where it has been torn. “I thought it would be straight forward. No trouble going there, right? Well, right now I feel more like all I’m doing is straying further and further away from where I’m supposed to be. I’m waiting for a sign, anything… most of the time I just wish for it to end.”

Hux has reached Ren’s waist. No more cuts to treat. All the bruises are dealt with. Ren wears so many layers usually that his exposed skin, white and tender, feels as vulnerable as a tiny bird in Hux’s hands. He will heal. In time not a single trace will be left on his body to show what has been done to it. Beauty is fleeting, except when it exists to cover up pain.

Ren turns around, Hux’s hands still glued to his waist, and gives Hux one of his inevitable stares. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Find your way inside the darkness?”

“I don’t believe in darkness.”

The stare becomes more piercing. “That’s nonsense. If there’s light there has to be darkness.”

“We aren’t talking about laws of physics here. We’re talking about deeds, done by humans. Stupid, blind, stumbling, fumbling humans. How can you ascribe a definite value to such a deed?”

“I am not trying to get into a discussion about moral relativity with you, Hux.”

“Yes, you are,” Hux says. He slides his thumb over a cut across Ren’s chest. “You wanted to know how I do it, this is my answer.”

“How do you sleep at night?”

“I close my eyes.”

Ren just shakes his head in exasperation.

Hux eyes him sharply. “How do you?”

“I rarely do,” Ren replies quietly. “I don’t think I will be able to sleep tonight. All for the better, I guess. At least if I don’t sleep I don’t dream.”

Hux puts the lid back on the bacta salve and returns it into the med kit. He stands up to clean the salve off his hands. The whole room smells of herbs and beeswax. At least half of that smell is artificial, but it is soothing nonetheless.

When he returns Ren is back in his shirt, still sitting on the bed.

“You can stay here if you want,” Hux says and sits back down next to him. He lifts one hand and brushes a few strands of hair out of Ren’s face. “I might just be able to help you relax.”

Ren blushes furiously.

Hux raises both eyebrows. “I don’t know where your filthy little mind just went but what I meant was, I can keep you company while you try to get some rest. Sometimes it helps to know you’re not alone.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Ren mutters. “I always sleep alone and if…” And then he shuts up, because Hux is still stroking his hair and something in his expression changes, the lines become a bit softer and he turns his head, just one inch, so Hux can trail his fingers along his neck.

Finally Ren relents and lies down on the sheets. He curls like a cat, his whole lean frame folded onto the bed, slender fingers digging into the pillow. He looks almost peaceful now, soft and pliant, nothing left of his stubbornness and his insistence to fight Hux with every word and every action. This Kylo Ren Hux could get used to.

“We can do the other stuff, too,” Hux says without pausing in his strokes. “Once you’re fully healed. Whatever filth your mind is able to come up with, I’m pretty sure I can match it.”

Ren closes his eyes. “Okay.”


End file.
